


mercy no more

by ciredan



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Canon suicidal ideation, Deal with a Devil, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Philip Hamilton Lives, Supernatural Elements, Title from a Hozier Song, pure angst, recontextualising alex's death to fit my stupid au, this story is based on alex's voice crack when he sings to eliza in its quiet uptown, timeline of the musical (not of real life)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 13:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19021363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciredan/pseuds/ciredan
Summary: if i could spare his life, if i could trade his life for mine;





	mercy no more

Alexander had always thought he'd be dead by now. He thinks about the reaper a lot-- so much so that when it nearly comes knocking at Monmouth it's like missing a call from an old friend for being out of the house, and he's almost disappointed.  
  
But he keeps living. If not for himself, then for the burgeoning family that's waiting for him back in New York state.  
  
It's safe to say that Philip's birth is the happiest moment of his life. He loves every one of his children well and true, but the especialty of his firstborn: the anxious buildup, the novel fledgling years, the heartbreaking first cries as a new life is delivered unto the world in a cacophony of blood and tears is an experience he doesn't forget. Eliza grins up at him as she holds their baby and at last they're a real, proper family with a child and a legacy and his blood running through someone else's veins and God, he thinks he might pass out. It's probably the blood.  
  
When Eliza holds their baby and cries again, Alexander knows unequivocally that this is worse than any hurricane.  
  
It's his fault, he knows. He hates himself for it.  
  
Alexander is well acquainted with death. When he finds himself at a fork in the stream just a little further east out from Harlem, when he collapses on the bank because he hasn't slept for days because he doesn't think he deserves to, when a raven inquisitively hops down from it's perch on a gnarled tree stump and begins talking right at him, he doesn't care if it's a hallucination or if the devil has come up from Arkansas to negotiate with some broken father.  
  
It's the best Goddamn deal he's heard in his life.  
  
_"Not yet,"_ the raven whispers, its beak curling up into a cruel approximation of a smile, _"I will come for you when all is good and ready."_  
  
Maybe it's worse, he thinks, to live with the knowledge that the only thing keeping the ones he loves from seeing Philip again is the fact that he's not dead yet. The guilt of staying alive eats away at him like wood rot. He thinks maybe it was all just a dream. Maybe he's finally gone mad; he knows grief can do some terrible things to one's mind.  
  
Eliza forgives him, and that's the absolute worst thing. Alex knows he has to die, and it's like no matter what he does he'll leave her broken-hearted.  
  
By 1800, there's a gentle reluctance to the idea of his passing. It's not enough to stop him prodding and provoking Burr at every opportunity, however. There are easier people to drive to homicide-- God knows how many times Jefferson has offered to shoot him-- but that seems a little too easy, and easy feels like cheating, and Alex worries that if the devil feels cheated then he'll be dead and Eliza will never see Philip again.  
  
When he stands unyieldingly opposite Burr at Weehawken, by all appearances ready to kill the man and return to his family in a heartbeat, it is by his design. He's regretful-- terrified-- in his final moments (because of course he is; he's still only human whether he has a deal with the devil or not) but when he sees Philip, his boy, still a child, torn from the world far too soon, Alex could cry. It's easy to cross over the stream and embrace his son and his mother and John Laurens and George Washington, and he thinks nothing of it when the raven crooks its head and beckons Philip over to return from whence Alex had came.  
  
For one selfish moment, Alexander wishes that Philip would stay. But it's better that the boy gets to see his mother again rather than be stuck eternally humouring a father that by all counts should've done better.  
  
It doesn't matter what he wants anymore. The transaction is complete and the world is better off without him.  
  
Alexander is dead before Eliza finds out a month later that she's pregnant. When the time comes, she'll name him Philip (because of course she will) and will love the child with all the blazing ferocity of a mother clinging to the last threads of her family.  
  
But for now, on the other side of the Hudson, Aaron Burr runs and runs-- until he can't run anymore-- until he collapses, exhausted, just east out from Harlem at a fork in a stream, and comes face-to-grinning-face with an oily-feathered bird who is very well acquainted with grief and her trappings indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> ok epic gamers so i just saw hamilton live finally and i wrote this in like one sitting immediately afterwards. dont get me wrong ive wanted to do an "alexander sells his soul" fic ever since i learnt the words to its quiet uptown but crying 5 separate times in a room full of old people was really the kick up the ass i needed to actually do it. this shit be like *dark souls* reawakening an old special interest. anyway comments are my lifeblood so please tell me what you think gang weed *peace signs out*


End file.
